When Sherlock met the Doctor
by PhoenixNephilm4
Summary: Sherlock is free after his 'suicide' off of Bart's hospital roof. Until he meets a stranger with a blue box in an alleyway. The Doctor has a few things to show Sherlock about his future. But they are not fixed points, and are dependent on Sherlock's decisions... What will Sherlock decide? And why exactly was he gone for two years? Written in the form of Sherlock's diary
1. The Truth of the future

16th February

It's been two weeks since my funeral now. Three weeks since my supposed suicide off the hospital roof. I'm free, no longer badgered about cases, no longer in the papers. No longer a target for being a fraud.

And I'm absolutely miserable.

I hate it. I hate not being able to see John, or Mrs Hudson, or Lestrade. Even Anderson, who I always argued with. I miss them all.

Especially John. I had informed him once, a long time ago, that I wasn't looking for a date or a relationship with him. At the time, I took it for granted that I had him in my life, and now he's gone, I realised how much I cared about him. Each morning, I stare at my phone, unsure of whether or not to call him. I should talk to him. He was the one I called, the last one I spoke to before I fell from that roof. I heard him scream my name. And I heard him at my funeral, stood alone by the grave, asking me to come back and stop being dead. It had felt like a knife twisting inside of me at the sound of the pain in his voice. I should go back and talk to him.

I look around the small hotel room, and sigh. At the moment this was all I could afford, a small, cheap, crumbling hotel on the outskirts of London. I had taken the room under the name Benedict rather than Sherlock, because my name was too obscure, and it would then quickly come out that I was alive. Benedict had seemed an ordinary enough name, and hadn't attracted unwanted attention so far.

I packed what few belongings I had with me, a few spare clothes, my wallet, my phone, and this, my diary. I've never kept a diary before. I find that I enjoy it, writing down my feelings. What feelings I have, anyway.

I'm outside the hotel, and its drizzling with rain. I start heading towards the main road in order to find a taxi, when from behind me I hear this incredibly loud, wheezing sound. It hurts my ears, and I turn around to see what the source of the noise is. A few metres away there is a blue police phone box, the kind seen in the 1960s. I stare at it, certain that it hadn't been there a moment before. I shake my head and am about to continue, when I hear the creak of the police box doors open, and a hand grabs my shoulder. "Just the man I was looking for" a voice says, dragging me backwards into the box. I shove my attacker away from me. "Leave me alone" I mutter, and am about to get out of the box when the doors shut and the wheezing sound starts up again. I turn away from the doors to see that I'm stood in an enormous room. There's a strange man, the one who grabbed me, darting around what appears to be a set of controls in the centre of the room. He grins and beckons me forward, and I step towards him as he stops fiddling with the console and folds his arms, staring at me. "I can't believe I'm actually stood in front of Sherlock Holmes" he says, still grinning. I frown.

"What do you want with me?" I ask; half tempted to run back to the doors. "Who are you anyway?"

"Who am I?" the man muses. He's tall and gangly, wearing a tweed jacket, braces and a bow tie, like some kind of old fashioned professor. "Good question, Mr Holmes. I'm the Doctor" he says, and I narrow my eyes. "How do you know my name?" I ask, and he laughs.

"Oh, you're famous, Sherlock. Your name's everywhere. All across the galaxy, all throughout history. And I'm here to help you make some decisions in your life" he says. I snort.

"I don't need help making decisions, thank you. I have to go" I say, starting towards the doors, but he catches my arm. "Oh, what now?" I ask.

"You can't leave. We're not in London now. You'll die if you step out of those doors" he says, his eyes fixed on mine. "Let me go" I say, and he drops my arm. He fiddles with the controls again, before going and opening the doors. "I thought you said I'd die if I opened the doors?" I ask, slightly confused. He laughs. "I said you'd die if you stepped outside, not if you open them. Do pay attention" he says, leaning against the doorframe and smiling at whatever he sees outside. I edge closer, my curiosity winning out.

We were in space.

Literally, floating above Earth. I could see the sun, the moon, and the stars. I tilt my head, curious. "The Earth rotates about the sun?" I ask, and the Doctor just stares at me.

"Yes it does. How do you not know that? Every kid on that planet knows that" he says, pointing down at the Earth. I shrug. "Maybe I did know, once. Must've deleted it. Not really that important. Is that why you brought me up here? To tell me the Earth goes around the sun?" I ask, and he laughs again. "No, but I thought that it might put things into perspective for you. Of what the TARDIS can do" he replies.

"TARDIS. That's this machine, right?" I ask, staring at the small island of the United Kingdom far below me. Somewhere down there, John is grieving my life. And I was planning on running away to China. The Doctor nods. "Yes. Time and Relative Dimensions in Space. TARDIS. It can travel anywhere in time and space, hence the name" he tells me, bounding back to the console. "Can you shut the doors please?" he calls out, and I slowly close the doors. "This is all very nice, and I'm glad you thought you would share this with me. But I really do have to get back to London" I tell him, and he stares at me, eyes wide.

"No you don't. You can go back to London soon. I'll drop you off five minutes before you left the hotel, if you like. But first you're coming with me" he says, and the wheezing sound started up again. "Where are you taking me now?" I demand, and he laughs and winks at me. A moment later, he bounds past me, grabbing my arm and pulling me with him. "Come on, Sherlock!"

I'm really starting to hate this guy.

It turns out we were in a graveyard. "You brought me to a graveyard? Why?" I ask, confused as he starts wandering through the gravestones. I follow, and he stops under a tree. "Look" he says, pointing. I look and see a familiar gravestone. My own. "I'm not actually buried here" I remind him, and he shakes his head and points at the gravestone next to mine. I crouch down to read the name.

John Hamish Watson.

I frown at the date. It's exactly five years after my own 'death' date. Why would John die exactly five years later? He was a strong healthy man, unless something happened in those five years. "He's going to die, Sherlock. And read what it says at the bottom" the Doctor says, and I brush aside the long grass covering the inscription at the base of the stone. "I'm glad we can be together again" I read, and felt a lump in my throat. For the first time in my life, I actually felt like _crying._ The Doctor touched my shoulder. "Come on. Time to go" he says, pulling me back to the TARDIS. I looked back over my shoulder, straining to see the two graves, side by side. I was shoved into the TARDIS, and it took flight again.

"Where are we now?" I ask as the TARDIS lands again. The Doctor refuses to answer, and heads outside. I follow, and frown. We're on the top of the St. Bart's hospital roof, the place I fell from. I'm confused as to why we're here, when a familiar figure steps out onto the roof and over to the ledge. I start towards him, but the Doctor pulls me back, his hand clamped over my mouth to stop me shouting out. He was surprisingly strong for such a skinny guy. I could only watch in horror as John stepped onto the ledge and looked down. "This is where you stood, Sherlock. It seems appropriate that I end it all here, the same way that you did. I've missed you, my old friend. I want nothing more than to see your face again. I'm coming, Sherlock" he says, and I let out a muffled scream against the Doctor's hand as he leans forward and vanished from sight. I wrestle myself free from the Doctor's grip and dart over to the edge and look over at the ground. I can see John, spread-eagled on the ground, and I know that he's dead.

As soon as we're back in the TARDIS, I shove the Doctor to the floor. "What the hell did you show me that for?" I shout, and he backs up slowly.

"I'm showing you that unless you return to London, and return to his life, he will die" he replies. I grimace. "Take me to London, then. Take me back" I mutter, the image of John's dead body lying on the ground burned into my eyelids. The Doctor folds his arms. "When I found you... you were going to the airport, weren't you? You weren't going to see John. Well, now you know what happens if you leave him thinking you're dead. He will jump off that roof, and you can't save him. Just like he couldn't save you..." he trails off, and I snap.

"Shut up! Just shut up! I'm not dead, I didn't die, and he won't either! Take me back where you found me, NOW!" I yell at him, and he smirks and starts playing with the controls slowly whilst I pace by the door. After another terrible wheezy landing, I stride out of the doors and back into London, when a newspaper blew up and hit me in the face. I pulled it away, and spotted the date. I spun round. "You idiot! Come back! It's 2014! Not bloody 2012! DOCTOR!" I bellowed.

But he was already gone.


	2. The Return to John's life

17th February

I stayed for one more night in the hotel before calling Mycroft to ask him whether he knew where John would be that evening. He informed me John had a dinner reservation, and told me the address of the restaurant. I wasn't sure what would happen. It had been two years for John and Mycroft, and half an hour for me. I was annoyed with the Doctor for getting the date wrong. I hoped John was ok.

I disguised myself as a waiter, and went over to John's table with a bottle of champagne he had ordered. "It certainly has the effect of a face from the past" I said, removing the glasses that were part of my disguise, and he stared, slowly getting to his feet. "John? John, what is it?" his girlfriend asked. "In short: not dead" I said, and she gaped at me. John slammed his fist on the table.

"Two years. Two years, Sherlock. Why? Why not just write a letter, give me a phone call. Just something, _something_ to say you were alive? Hm?" he asked.

"I didn't know how" I mumbled, which was at least partially true. I hadn't known how to contact John whilst in the TARDIS. He slammed his hands into me, pushing me to the ground. I didn't even bother trying to resist as his hands found my neck and he started trying to strangle me.

A few hours later, and I was back in my flat on Baker Street with Mrs Hudson mopping up the blood still flowing from my nose where John had head butted me. "Dear me, Sherlock. Two years, and the next time I see you, you have a nose bleed! What happened, dear? Did someone attack you?" she asked, and I grunted. "John wasn't too pleased to see me" I mumbled, and she sighed.

"Give him time. He'll come round. You're his special friend. He'll find his way back to you" she says, taking away the blood stained tissues.

21st February

John was at the door this morning. He'd shaved off that ugly moustache, thank goodness. I pretended to be indifferent to the fact he was here. "What do you want?" I asked, flopping in my chair. He sighed, and sat opposite me, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "I want to apologize for hitting you the other night. And..." he trailed off, and I raised my eyebrows.

"I forgive you. And what?" I asked. He flinched.

"Where have you been, Sherlock? Two whole years. No one heard from you. Not even Mycroft" he says. I grimaced.

"I was... travelling..." I said before realising that was a pretty lame excuse for why I hadn't been in contact. He sighed.

"If you don't want to tell me, fine. I'm glad you're back though, Sherlock. I missed you" John says, and once again the image of his broken body on the pavement flashed before my eyes. I reached out and before I could stop myself, I was hugging him. "I missed you too, John. I liked it when it was the two of us together, solving crimes and laughing together. I'm glad you were still here for me when I got back" I mumbled, and he pulled away, surprised.

"Where was I going to go, Sherlock? Without you, what would I have done?" he asked. I flinched.

"I don't know. But... you seemed pretty upset at my funeral, and I was worried that you might... you know..." I trailed off, and he blinked.

"I don't get it. I wasn't going to go anywhere. And yes, I was upset at your funeral. I thought I had just lost my best friend forever. Anyone would be upset" he replied, and I blinked at him, surprised. He'd missed I was trying to say about him potentially committing suicide, but he had said something that made my heart beat faster.

"I'm... I'm your... your... best... friend?" I asked, and he nodded.

"Of course you are. Why do you even need to ask?" he says, and I smiled.

"I've never had a best friend before. Or even a friend, for that matter" I told him, and he laughed.

"Well, you've got me now. I'm always going to be here for you. And next time, tell me when you decide to fake your own death. I could help" he says.

Again, before I realised what was happening, I was hugging him again, and he was laughing and hugging me back. "I'm always going to be here for you, too, John. You don't need to die yet. You need to live a long, happy life with Mary" I say, releasing him quickly. He coughed.

"Thank you, Sherlock. That means a lot to me, coming from you" he says quietly.

* * *

**Author's Note:  
**

_Hi guys!  
_

_So thank you for reading so far! There's only one more chapter to go for this one._

_I wrote this awhile ago (hence why it's being updated quickly)_

_I hope you like it!_

_Follow and review if you like it!_


	3. Time Changes

11th May

Today is John's wedding. He made me the best man. I've been panicking about it for months. I have to make a speech.

There's going to be _people._

I hate people. They're so... ordinary. And boring. So boring.

And they'll be watching me. Talking about John...

How can I make a speech about how happy I am? I'm not even entirely sure what happiness is.

Uh oh. John's at the door telling me to hurry up. I suppose I have to go...

Wish me luck. Oh wait, you're a diary. That means I'm wishing myself good luck. That's awkward.

12th May

So that went well. I solved a murder in the middle of my best man's speech. Other than that, it went alright. John hugged me in the middle of it. I don't know why. I liked it though.

Anyway. So John and Mary have gone off on their honeymoon, and Mrs Hudson came to yell at me because I was playing the violin too loudly. I'm bored. So bored.

And then I hear it.

The wheezing groaning sound, right outside the window. I jump up and walk over to the window, and look down, and sure enough, the blue box is there. I turn and grab my coat, running down the stairs and out the front door. I tap on the doors of the blue box, and a moment later the doors open, and there the Doctor is, leaning against the doorframe casually. "Hello again Sherlock" he says, ushering me inside. This time, I don't hesitate. "So. What are you going to show me now?" I ask; my hands in my pockets as the TARDIS takes off. The Doctor grins. "Not much. Just to show you that you changed the future. You made the right choice" he said, bounding past me and opening the doors. I sigh and follow him outside. We're in the graveyard again, by John's grave. The gravestone now reads a date forty years into the future. I sigh. "How does he die?" I ask curiously, and he smiles, taking me back into the TARDIS. A noisy minute later, and he takes me through the hospital. "Here" he says, shoving me into a hospital room. It's empty apart from an old man in the bed, hooked up to a machine. He looks up and blinks slightly. "I must be dreaming... Sherlock?" he asks, and I feel tears fill my eyes and step closer to the bed, taking the man's hand. Only he's not just any old man. He's John Watson. My John Watson. "Hello John" I whisper.

"Sherlock... how... you look... young..." he whispers back, and I smile.

"Well, I have my secrets" I say, and he laughs; only his laugh turns quickly into a wheezy cough. I touch his forehead lightly. "Shhh..." I murmur, and he smiles.

"Oh Sherlock. I always said you'd be the death of me" he says, his eyes locked on my face. I smile down at him, and for a moment his smile widens, and he goes still. The heart monitor lets out a flat continuous beep, and I drop his hand, leaving the room and striding back into the TARDIS before the doctors rushed in. I wiped my face quickly, making sure that the Doctor didn't see my tears.

He takes me back home, two weeks after I had left. "I thought this was best. You won't be bored now; John's back" he said, and I thanked him and headed inside. Mrs Hudson stormed out. "And where do you think you've been for the last fortnight?" she demands, her arms folded.

"I... I was just..." I mumbled, wishing I had prepared an excuse before coming inside. She suddenly grabs me and hugs me tight. "Oh Sherlock. You're a brilliant man. I just wish you wouldn't wander off like this. I know I'm not your mother, but still" she says, and I smile slightly. "Oh, John's waiting for you upstairs" she adds, ushering me upstairs. I open the door to find John stood by the window. He turns when I walk in, and smiles. For a moment, I see the face of the old man John who I held the hand of as he died. I blink, and he's back to normal. "Hi John" I say, and he steps forward and pulls me into a hug. "Mrs Hudson said you've been gone since I left for the honeymoon. Where were you?" he asks, and I flinch, seeing him die in front of me again. I shrug.

"Just travelling. Wandering around England, having a break from London" I lied and he raised his eyebrows. "If you don't want to tell me, it's fine. You always do have you secrets" he said, and I grimaced, thinking about what I had said to Old John before his death. _Well, I have my secrets_.

It's all too much now. My knees buckle, and I crumple to the ground. "Sherlock? Sherlock!" I hear John cry out as the world goes dark.

A few hours later? I'm not sure. I blacked out. 

"Sherlock?"

I smile, my eyes still shut.

"Sherlock, wake up" the voice says again, slightly irritated. I sigh, and blink uncertainly, and the voice sighs. "What on earth happened to you?" John asks. I struggle into a sitting position, and realise that I'm in bed, and John is sat on a chair beside me. I rub my head. "Just over-thinking. Sorry" I mumble. That was a lame apology. I'm about to say something else, maybe apologize for my apology if that's possible, when John laughs. "No need to apologize, Sherlock. I got used to you doing stupid things. Although I must admit that I did panic a bit when you collapsed. Nearly gave me a heart attack. But then, I suppose you will be the death of me, won't you?" he said, and I groan, squeezing my eyes shut.

"John... can I have some quiet time alone, please?" I ask, and he nods, patting my shoulder.

"Sure. I'll be out here if you need me" he says, leaving the room and closing the door. I flop back down into the pillows, the only thing I can picture is Old John and his last words. _You'll be the death of me._ I groaned. Why did the Doctor have to show me that? Was it supposed to make me feel better? If anything, I feel worse than when I watched John fall off that roof. I realise that my pillow is oddly lumpy, and I frown suddenly, and sit up, reaching my hand under the pillows. My fingers brush against a fold of paper, and I pull it out. I open the paper to read the message, and a key falls out. I read the note quickly.

_Sherlock,_

_This is a spare TARDIS key. I don't know if you'll ever need it, but I thought you should have it anyway. _

_Remember, John needs you, so don't disappear on him again. _

_I might pop back again soon, just to see how you're getting on. _

_Have a good life, Sherlock. Be good._

_The Doctor_

I weigh the key in my hand, attached to a length of black cord. I smile to myself, and tie the cord around my neck, the key dangling like a pendant around my throat. There's a knock at the door. "Sherlock? You ok in there?" John's voice asks, and I grin to myself, standing and opening the door.

"I'm perfectly fine, John. Never better. I'm back at home with my best friend. What could possibly be better than that?"

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_Thank you so much for reading to the end!_

_Please do leave a review, I would love to know what you thought_

_There is always the possibility of a sequel to this one..._

_(Sherlock's Identity is NOT a sequel!)_


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